Nelson’s Memorial

When the sailor went to sea
He heard every shanty under the sun
His favourite was a Drop Of Nelson’s Blood
Hard bastard that Horatio
So goddamn legendary his men pickled him in rum
They drank his essence to stay strong
To carry his spirit through the ages
The sailor thought about it
Every time he knocked back a tot
“Forget that cremation and coffin shite.
Bury me at sea in a barrel of rum.”
He told his buddies
Years later,
When the sailor was old, grey and passed away
His buddies chipped in for a barrel
Sent him on down to Fiddler’s Green
So he could raise a cup with Lord Nelson
And shares stories of the sea.

Black Tot Day

It was madness

Every lad from port to starboard

Jostled to get to the front of the line

Black armbands flailing like jolly rogers

Even the bosun were throwing punches

Until the pipe came and the six bells rang 

A profound silence filled the air

Up spirits one last time

Drinking to memory 

A procession of lament and final salute

Three centuries of tradition buried at sea

All these years later I still remember that bloody slogan

“Last Issue of Rum to the Royal Navy 31st July 1970.”